Sawdust
by laughingnobody
Summary: 11 years ago, Dean met Castiel at a crappy carnival Sam dragged him to. Love at first sight? Absolutely. Prepared for the privilege of having Cas? Doubtful.


**September 1989**

_People are as wrong about love as they are about anything. Love leaves scars, some left on the outside to wince at strangers, and others invisible to the naked eye, like the ones still burning on the inside where it hurts most._

_You love someone, so you open up your heart to the all the pain, isn't that the sad truth. Losing control over happiness is insufferable, but no one ever learns from their mistakes, do they?_

"My name is Dean." Dean says into the speaker, glancing over to the dark haired man on his right. Cas doesn't meet his gaze.

"Hi, Dean!" Gabriel yells from the back, where he has a basket full of petals in his hands and a more than happy look on his face.

"Shut the f—up, Gabriel. This isn't Alcoholics Anonymous." Dean ignores the middle finger pointed at him and continues.

"Um, I don't exactly know what I'm doing here." _Yes, I do._

"Then why don't you leave?" Cas hisses from beside him. He's standing up straight in a way Dean learns to hate quickly.

"I know most of you don't know me, but just let me explain, and I'll be out of your way." Dean twists the ring on his finger, where it's left its brand on him, a claim that he belongs to someone.

* * *

**June 1978**

"_Sioux Falls' Carnival Under the Stars_"

That's what the flyer says when Sam hands it to him. Dean looks up, face streaked in grease and dirt. Sam has on, what Dean likes to call, his begging stripper face, because it's the same exact expression female erotic dancers give Dean when he's with Gabe at the club after a long day at work. Not that Gabriel doesn't know that Dean is more than uncomfortable at those places.

"Is this a joke?" are the first words to come flying out of Dean's mouth when he grabs the paper and turns it over so he can read the title properly. "No." He shoves the paper back into Sam's hands.

"It can be my late graduation present, or, better yet, late birthday present." Sam says simply. He noses a hand through his overgrown hair. Sam is past his brother's height now, and Dean knows that Sam grows like a tree. By his next birthday, Sam will be able to carry Dean himself and march him off to wherever he wants.

"Sammy, you're 18. Not 5." Dean answers and falls on his back again to crawl under a broken down Ford. More oil leaks onto his face and he grabs a cloth in his pocket, wiping the drops of black goop off his face.

"Why?" And there goes Sam's pouty voice when he doesn't get what he wants.  
"Because, first of all, 'Carnival Under the Stars' is the worst fucking name for anything. And second of all, I have work, Sam. To put your smartass through school. Remember?"

"It's not exactly hard to forget." Sam mutters.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I told you, Dean. I can go to college here. There's nothing wrong with that." Sam huffs and sits down on a closed toolbox. Dean sighs and stops turning the wrench in his hand.

"We've talked about this before, Sam." Dean slides out from under the car but doesn't stand up. "You're going to Stanford for a proper education and not at the Falls where I've personally seen every teacher with some fucking dollar bills up their cooters. I mean, you've already gotten your acceptance letter, Sammy. That's like a one way ticket there; you can't say no to that."

"Fuck Stanford, Dean."

"Watch your tone."

"Make me." Says retorts and Dean throws the wrench at him, missing his head by a mile. This is how most of their arguments go: Sam begging Dean to let him study at the Falls to save money for the things Dean wants for himself, and Dean saying that there's nothing more he wants than Sam's success ("so I can pawn off of you when you're rich.").

Gabriel waltzes into the shop eating a jelly donut that screams diabetes. He picks the flyer off the floor and snorts when he reads the title. He looks up and doesn't know whether to laugh at Dean, who is basking in the daylight on the floor like a silly girl in a bikini, or Sam, who is sporting a bitch face, legs tucked up to his chin from sitting on the low tool box.  
Gabriel crumples the poster with one hand and points to Sam. He swallows the rest of his food before talking. "No."

"Thank you!" Dean yells, throwing his hands up the best he can from the ground.  
"It's my birthday present!" Sam whines and stands up. His head hits a chain on the low ceiling and Dean winces.

"I thought it was a few months ago. With the uh," Gabriel licks the frosting off his fingers, "strippers."

"That wasn't a celebration! That was Dean's definition of a good time!" Sam protests and throws his hands up in exasperation the same way Dean did, hitting the chains painfully with his fists.

"Hey!" Dean sits up and latches onto his lanky brother's ankle and tugs hard, causing Sam to stumble and fall.

"Seemed like a celebration to me." Gabriel waggles his eyebrows and leans against the shelf. "Well, my baby bro and his roommate are coming into town in about—" Gabriel checks his watch. "_Fuck_. Was 'posed to pick them up at the airport half an hour ago. I'll be back." Gabriel grabs his keys off the hook and ducks his head under the garage door. Sam sends Dean a death look and tries to smack his arm, but Dean twists his brother's arm behind his back and Sam yelps.

"Dean!" Sam struggles as Gabriel's head pops back into view.

"And take him to the damn carnival, Dean. You deserve a break." His coworker says and gives a cocky smile.

"Thanks, _Bobby_." Dean answers sarcastically and his grip on Sam tightens. Sam reaches up blindly with his other arm and hooks two fingers in Dean's nose.

"Dahh." The sound that comes out of Dean's mouth is not the most attractive one, and Gabriel snickers.

"Well, my baby bro might be there since he's got an attention span of a toddler. I'm actually _really_ late." Gabriel checks his watch again.

"You're coming." Dean manages to say and Gabriel's eyebrows shoot up.

"Fuck that. You're on your own." Gabriel says and disappears from view.

"Bite me, Gabe!" Dean yells, Sam's fingers still scratching at his face.

"Maybe later, big boy!" Gabriel calls back and Dean watches his friend's shadow disappear. Sam uses the opportunity to grab Dean's ear, and he pinches. Hard.  
"Ow! Bitch!" Dean loosens his death grip on his brother's arm and Sam scrambles up, huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.

"Jerk." His little brother says back, breathing heavily and swaying on his feet.

* * *

"Who _is_ that?" Dean asks Gabriel, who isn't listening to a word he's saying and has his eyes trained on the prizes. Sam is standing by his side, directing him where to throw the rings to the bottles. Dean snorts and ignores them, turning his head away and staring back into the crowd, leaning back against the low counter. The boy dressed far too warm for a trip to the carnival in mid-June's heat. Expensive, brown leather oxfords cover his feet, and a grey sweater frames his slim torso where a collared shirt peaks out from above, showing off his distinct collarbones.

He's accompanied by a girl in a flowered pink dress with blonde curls on her head that bounce as she grabs the boy's hand excitedly. The boy catches Dean's eye and whispers something to the girl and she leans on him and laughs. Dean holds the boy's gaze as she does and the boy gives a shy smile. The duo is heading towards Dean's direction and the boy gives a small wave to him. Dean's about to bring his own hand up when Gabriel pushes him aside with open arms.

"Castiel!" He shouts. The boy drops the girl's hand and Gabriel sweeps him up in an embarrassing hug.

"I've missed you, brother." Dean hears the boy's voice come muffled through Gabriel's jacket.

"Good, God. How long has it been? Little Cassie is all grown up now!" Gabriel says proudly and beams, taking a step back to run his eyes over the boy's reddening face, and Dean finds the reaction somewhat charming. Then Gabriel slaps the boy on the back and lets out a sharp laugh at his wince. "And still punier than ever. Little brother, you haven't grown a muscle!"

"I'm fairly certain I haven't changed as much as you expected me to. I've passed my adolescent stage." The boy mutters, looking down at his body. Gabriel still wears that shit-eating grin on his face, raises his eyebrows to Dean, and waves the comment off, reaching over to give the girl a quick hug and kissing her cheek. Dean and Sam fiddle with their fingers awkwardly from the side.

"This your girl, Cassie?" Gabriel teases, and points a chubby finger to the blonde girl. It looks like he's asked the question many times before by the way the girl rolls his eyes.

"Not a chance in a lifetime, Gabe. You know I'm not his type. Never was, never will be." She notices Sam and smiles at him, completely ignoring Dean, and twirling a blonde curl around her finger shyly. Dean wishes he had the chance to teach his little brother how to act around girls because Sam has a giddy look on his face that is completely overcome with glee.

"Jessica Moore." The girl says to him and winks, holding her hand out. Sam's mouth is falling slightly open, and Dean can see that Jess already has Sam wrapped around her dainty finger. Sam takes her hand and kisses the top and she blushes.

"Sam-yoo-ell." Sam answers slowly, pronouncing every syllable in his full name with emphasis, and Dean almost reddens right along with him, staring at the dirt on the ground to hide the pity for his brother's embarrassment.

"And who might this be? He one of your gearheads, Gabriel?" The boy's voice is like molasses over gravel. Dean's head snaps up. The boy is angling his head towards him, staring at the spit-soaked toothpick in Dean's mouth. Dean watches the boy run a hand though his dark hair and he takes in a sharp breath. Like Sam, this boy is one of those individuals who have eternal youth carved into their faces. His mouth is framed by a soft jaw, and even in the moonlight, Dean can see the striking ocean blue of this eyes as they gleam.

"Winchester, Dean. Pleasure to meet you." He says, finding his voice and sticking a greased stained hand out. Castiel takes it in a firm handshake and smiles politely, like he's rehearsed this a million times over. The boy's hands are warm, and it sends a shiver up Dean's body.

"Castiel Novak. And the pleasure is mine. I don't suppose you're going to kiss my hand too, are you?" The boy jokes lamely, and when Dean pulls his hand back, Castiel tries to hide his grimace when he spots black residue on his palm. Dean bites his cheek.

"Sorry." He mutters and takes a step back, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and rubbing them on the worn inner lining. His keys jingle as the pocket shakes.

"No worries. That's not the _worst_ thing that's happened tonight." Castiel says coolly, wiping his hand on a napkin that appeared out of thin air. Dean's interested in squeezing more words out of the boy, but he keeps his mouth shut. Instead he keeps his gaze fixated on Castiel's face.

"Gabriel, did you get a chance to talk to Lou yet? He's got himself tangled up with that girl, Naomi, I think. Quite the scandal, I hear." Castiel clicks his tongue and his face flushes pink when he catches Dean studying him.

"What?" Castiel asks, a small smirk playing on his lips. He stares back at Dean, an eyebrow lifted, and Dean can't help but smile. He's already drawn in to this boy he hardly knows, and it makes his mind wild. Gabriel mutters something about getting popcorn and leaves them.

"Let me take you on the Ferris wheel, Castiel." Dean says, trying the new name on his tongue. It rolls off smooth as silk. He likes the sound of it and repeats it over and over in his head like a broken record player. Castiel lets out short laugh at Dean's sudden bluntness.

"Why should I?" His snarky comment rings in the air, acting against his lax face, and it takes Dean aback.

"Because I _said_ so." Dean answers smugly. He's rewarded with a grin from the boy, and it lights up a part of Dean on the inside that he's never felt before. This boy is like a magician; he can make anyone's stomach tingle in excitement without even touching them, and, damn, if that doesn't make Dean wish he was Castiel's rabbit.

"And what if I said no?"

"I can change your damn mind." Dean answers. Castiel flinches at his use of profanity, but continues to play along with his little game of will he, won't he. _What a fucking tease,_ Dean thinks.

"That so? You really think you're the finest man here?"

"To the moon and back, yeah, I _know_ so, pretty boy."

Castiel's face reddens even more and he leans in close. His pupils are dilated with interest and Dean can feel the warm breath on his ear.

"Well I don't think so." Castiel whispers, voice low and playful, and he flaunts off, dark hair blowing in the wind behind him. Dean knows he's supposed to feel offended, but his heart doesn't believe what his mind thinks. Jess detaches herself from her conversation with Sam and runs after Castiel, leaving Sam slightly red.

"And why is that?" Dean calls after Castiel, feeling flustered and skittish at the same time. He's not one to give up that easily.

"Because _I_ am!" Castiel shouts back, his hearty laughter carried through the night air and Dean swears he can see the stars in his eyes when the light hits Castiel's face at the right moment.

Through the crowd, Dean follows Castiel's head bobbing up and down, arm in arm with Jess. He keeps his eyes trained on her blonde head that stands out amongst the sea of dark hair. Then he finally works up the courage to use his feet and follow them, determined not to let Castiel out of eyesight. Sam calls after Dean but he ignores his little brother. It might be Sam's birthday celebration, but it's not every day you meet someone as enthralling as Castiel.

Dean follows the duo past the kissing booth, where Rhonda Hurley is offering a dollar and puckering up for a boy Dean doesn't recognize. There's an ice cream stand that Castiel briefly glances at fondly before Jess is pulling him away. Dean is closer to them now, and he can see the dust on Castiel's oxfords, the way his head throws back in laughter when a boy gets dunked in the water tank, how his gaze lingers on the Ferris wheel, probably thinking about Dean's proposal. Flashing lights turn his face into a mirage of illumination. Then when Jess twirls around to say hello to her friends, Castiel spots Dean not too distant away from him and shuffles over from the group of shrieking girls.

"You ready to take me up on that offer, Castiel?" Dean asks when Castiel is in earshot. His tongue swivels the toothpick back and forth between the top and bottom row of his teeth. Castiel looks at Dean's mouth for a second before staring up at the Ferris wheel behind Dean.

"What's in it for me?" Castiel asks. He shifts the balance on his legs and folds his arms.

"_What's in it for you_?" Dean repeats incredulously. "Well, shit. The pleasure of my company I hope." He laughs.

"And is that supposed to be a good thing?" Castiel holds the lapels of Dean's leather jacket between two fingers, and it makes Dean's body flush and the leather stick to his arms.

"I don't fucking know, Cas." Dean shrugs, staring down at Castiel's fingers. "Why don't you come with me and I can show you that I can be good. I can be anything you want me to be."

"Why don't you buy me dessert later and then we'll talk good?" Castiel grabs Dean's hand and drops it again, checking his own hand for oil. When he doesn't spot anything, he grabs the sleeves of Dean's jacket and leads him to the Ferris wheel.

"Cas. I can call you that right?" Dean asks him when they get to the back of the line.

"You can call me anything you want, _pretty boy_." Castiel answers. Dean feels his face grow hot and he turns his head away to hide his burning face.

"Dean, please don't feel like you have the need to shy away from me." Castiel grabs Dean's chin and turns his head to face him. "If you say you can be good, then I say I can be your friend." Cas smiles and Dean wants to kiss him, kiss those chapped lips until the only thing Cas is doing with his mouth is kissing Dean back.

Chuck whistles them over because it's their turn to get on the Ferris wheel. Cas hops onto it and pats the metal seat next to him, motioning Dean over. When Dean sits, Chuck hooks the metal chain across the opening and walks away.

Dean looks over to the blue eyes boy next to him. He doesn't know what to say to Cas, who's staring right back at him. Dean pretends he's looking at something beyond Cas' face and the boy cocks his head.

Chuck pulls the lever and the seat lurches forward. As the duo begin their ascent, Dean finds himself wishing Cas would say something since his brain is fried beyond repair. Stupid, beautiful Cas. Dean wants to take Cas' hand, just to see what would happen. The seat rocks as Cas shifts and Dean grits his teeth on his toothpick.

But maybe Cas will pull his hand away because he doesn't play for the other team, and Dean will have to deal with embarrassment for the next twenty minutes of this god-awful ride, or jump down fifteen feet and break his legs, which seems more or less humiliating. He doesn't know why he suggested the Ferris wheel in the first place. The seat rocks again. Bumper carts or spinning tea cups aren't set up for failure like twenty minute joy revolutions of a circle.

The silence seems to be killing them both, so instead of asking Cas where's he's from or what his favorite ice-cream flavor is (which would be useful for taking Cas out on a proper date if he shared Dean's affection), "You bat for the other team?" is what comes out of Dean's mouth before he realizes it.

"Fuck my life. Nevermind. Forget I asked that." Dean backpedals, trying to cover up his tracks, but Cas answers the question nonetheless. At least he attempts to anyway.

"I don't…bat. But I _am_ usually associated with lacrosse." Cas furrows his brows in confusion. He leans forward again, rocking the small cart that he and Dean can barely fit into.

"What? No, I mean, you queer?" And there goes Dean's piehole again, speaking without his brain's permission. He silently curses himself, but Cas gives a gentle smile.

"Depends who's asking." Cas says, raising his eyebrows in a way that seems more uncomfortable than suggestive, and Dean laughs. Cas observes his expression and frowns, turning his head away from Dean.

"Don't ever flirt like that, Cas." Dean remarks when he catches his breath.  
"My apologies."

"No need to say sorry for that."

"I apo—I will adjust my behavior accordingly to your desires."

"My desires, huh? O…kay, you do that." Dean gives him a goofy smile.

"Just for future reference, I do not usually act in this manner." Cas warns. "Flirty, using your terminology, assuming that's the case."

"No shit? Well, I kind of figured. It's just, you don't really seem like the type to, you know, put yourself out there."

"Well, I do study vigorously when time is available." Dean groans at that, but Cas continues. "But Jess suggested visiting Gabe for the summer would ease my mind off my studies."

"Studies?"

"Yes, I study literature at a college in New York."

"New York, huh. That so? Wow." Dean whistles, impressed, but not surprised. Cas talks like a fucking textbook anyway. "I'm trying to get Sammy to study at Stanford so he can become this big shot lawyer and marry a pretty girl and not stay here in this hell hole."  
Cas doesn't say anything to that. His expression stays the same, and Dean tries not to show his worry that he's boring Cas. There's a long pause while Cas picks at a frayed thread on his sweater and Dean watches his nimble fingers twist the loose string. When the Ferris wheel makes its first revolution around, Dean speaks up.

"Cas, if I'm boring you, feel free to get off and I swear I won't be offended. Well, maybe a little, since you're _you_, and I know I haven't exactly given the best first impression, but—" Dean starts, but Cas interrupts him before he can go on.

"Dean," Cas says gently, putting a warm hand on the boy's knee, which Dean just realized was shaking of nervousness. "I certainly am enjoying myself with your company, wouldn't you be pleased to know." Dean smiles as Cas continues. "And, yes, in case you were wondering, I'm not strictly into women."

"Oh, really? Not just women." Dean gives him a wolfish grin.

"Yes, I just said that." Dean looks at Cas for a moment before hanging his head and chuckling to himself.

"You are really somethin', Cas."

"I'm glad we've established that." Cas acknowledges and Dean pokes his stomach.

They're at the top again, the closest they'll ever be to the stars, and Dean is secretly wishing that the adventure wasn't already half over, though just minutes ago, he was commanding his legs to make what would probably be the most botched decision in his life.

"So, uh, tell me about yourself, Castiel Novak from upstate." Dean says.

"Well, for starters, I don't have a very strong connection with people." Cas pauses, "I've never been close to anyone, apart from Jess and Gabriel."

Dean grins. "So what made you change your mind to let me take you on this crappy ride?" A smile creeps up his lips.

"I was curious."

"Well, don't you like adventure, Cas?"

"The adventures I enjoy are usually in the forms of literary nature."

"What?"

"Books, Dean. Novels." Dean nods slowly. "I also enjoy poetry."

"Poetry. Like the whole 'roses are red, violets are blue' crap?"

"It's not 'crap'." Cas argues. "It's art. Robert Frost especially."

"Huh." Dean chews on his toothpick, which starts to break apart in his mouth.

"Something the matter with poetry?"

"No, it's just a little old, that's all."

"Old." Cas repeats.

"You know, outdated? Does anyone actually read it? I mean, besides you." He adds when Cas looks away from him.

"It's…it's not for everyone." Cas says quietly. Dean is worried he might have hurt his feelings; he wants to reach out and take Cas' hand and murmur apologies into his palm.

"You'd be good friends with Sammy." Dean says instead, biting his cheek.

"Well, it seems your brother is occupied with someone far more interesting than I." Cas peeks his head over the side and looks down, where Sam is biting cotton candy off the rolled up paper Jess is holding in one hand, a stuffed panda Sam managed to win for her in the other.

"You're interesting." Dean comments. And he means it.

Cas turns to face him again and laughs. "Oh, I can assure you I'm not."

Dean smiles because he knows Cas is lying to himself and the blue eyed boy watches him chew on his toothpick again.

"I've noticed you've done that many times." Cas mimics his actions though Dean knows what he's is talking about.

"Keeps me from lightin' a smoke." He answers.

Cas nods like that's the answer to everything and keeps staring at him. The metal seat is still making his ass sore and he shifts, trying to get comfortable. Dean looks at Cas again, gives him a cocky grin, and wiggles in the seat again. He doesn't miss the sparkle in Cas' eyes when his chapped lips try not to form a smile back. Dean leans forward in the seat, face inches away from Cas'. He can see Cas clearly now, how his eyes dilate in excitement, how the hot breath on his mouth quickens, and Dean's just tempted to lean in and close the space between them.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Cas whispers, though Dean knows Cas knows the answer.

"Roses are red, your eyes are blue. My name is Dean Winchester, and I might just be in love with," Dean looks at Cas and bites back a smile when the boy blushes, "food." Dean finishes and pulls back. He laughs when Cas reaches out to slug him on the shoulder.

"Now how's that for poetry, Cas?"

* * *

"_If everybody had an ocean, across the USA, then everybody'd be surfin'._" The speakers blast from the stage.

"I love this song! _Like Californ-i-a!_" Cas takes ahold of Dean's hand and pulls him onto the dance floor.

A_ bushy, bushy, blonde hairdo_

Cas points to somewhere behind Dean. He turns and sees Sam holding Jess close to him, their feet moving in slow unison. Cas grabs his hand again.

"Dance with me, Dean!"

"I'm not much of dancer, Cas." Dean mumbles reluctantly but wraps an arm around the boy's waist, ignoring the disapproving looks thrown at the two.

"_Inside, outside, USA. Inside, outside, USA._" Cas sings and moves shakes his head with the song, eyes closed.

"You like the Beach Boys." Dean acknowledges, trying to keep up with Cas, but the boy's pace is too fast for him. Cas opens his eyes again.

"I like boys in general, but I take it you already know that." Cas gives him a sly smile and continues to dance.

_We're waxing down our surfboards, we can't wait for June_

"Glad June is already here. College is a brute." Cas mutters so low Dean almost misses it.

It feels something akin to exciting being in Cas' arms, and Dean sure didn't expect them to feel protective around him. Cas mouths song lyrics to no one in particular and tosses his head back and forth, the light catching the glimmer in his eyes. He wiggles his hips and his feet move faster than Dean's. Step forward, step back, step forward, step back, step forward, step back. All the while Dean is ungracefully trying to catch up to Cas' rhythm.

_Haggerties and Swamies, Pacific Palisades, San Onofre and Sunset, Redondo Beach L.A._

Dean's hooked onto every movement Cas makes. The way his eyes go in a daze when he's concentrating on trying to get the words right, the way he can feel Cas' fingers involuntarily tapping to the beat on the back of his neck, the way Dean is radiating off of Cas like the summer heat rolling of his tan skin.

"This is fun. We should do it again." Cas says, arms thrown around Dean's neck in a lazy manner.

"The carnival doesn't come back in fucking forever." Dean mutters and pulls the boy closer to him. He can feel Cas smiling against his shoulder by how his stubble scratches against Dean's neck in a way that makes him ache for more.

"Tomorrow then. There's always tomorrow." Cas whispers, a small huff of breath in Dean's ear.

The boy hums the rest of the song to himself and Dean can feel Cas' fingers trailing up and down his neck. Dean runs his hands over the soft cotton on Cas' sides into the next song, feeling the boy's ribs travel up and down like a xylophone on his fingers. He think about letting Cas wear one of his tees someday, just to see him out of thousand dollar garments, though Cas might complain about how Dean's shirts have been washed more than twice. A hot flush rushes through Dean at the thought and he gets the sudden impulse to push up that grey sweater and find out what Cas is really made of.

Instead he hooks his fingers through the belt loops of Cas' pants and pushes their hips together. The small intake of breath that comes out of Cas' chapped lips takes Dean higher than the clouds and he can't hear a single sound; Cas' eyes are like the music to his ears, whispering their own words of beauty.

And everything about Cas is beautiful.

Then that boy is leaning in close like he's about give Dean a sweet kiss, but pulls back at the last second, laughing to himself at how zero to sixty Dean's smile goes in two seconds, and Dean takes that laugh and burns it into his mind so he can replay it over and over when he's alone and misses this handsome stranger.

"You faked me out!" Dean exclaims and tries to take Cas' head and lean in again, but Cas looks over to the side and Dean's mouth catches his hair instead. It smells like honey.

_And the way he looked was way beyond compare  
We danced through the night, and we held each other tight  
And before too long I fell in love with him  
Well, my heart went "boom"  
And I held his hand in mine_

* * *

**Author's Notes**  
-Songs used:  
_Surfin' U.S.A_. by The Beach Boys  
_I Saw Her Standing There_ by The Beatles [My rendition]  
-Sam-yoo-ell = Samuel  
-Cas smells like honey because he watches the bees  
-Very, very loosely based off the carnival scene in _The Notebook_  
-Title after The Killers album


End file.
